Dave is home.

Dave sits in the living room, reading a newspaper. He smiles as he sees you and drops the paper. You bite your lip, still wondering how to tell him what you found out.

"Dave, darling, there something I..."

The housemaid appears in the door. You stop, eyeing her suspiciously. Isn't that a coincidence? Or is it just that - a coincidence. In the end, that's exactly her job: to serve you when you come home.

"Good evening Sir and Ma'am!", she says assiduous. "I hope you had a good day. May I serve you tea?"

She carries a tray with a pot, a steaming cup, milk and sugar. It really feels like being the Lady of a Scottish manor in the 19th century. Dave smiles at her, and you can't shake the feeling that he's checking out her body in that tight maid uniform.

You sigh and sign the girl to leave the room. She sets the tray next to you on the coffee table, curtesies and vanishes. You watch her leave. Is it true what all those people claimed? That the Happy Maids are some kind of fifth column? It would certainly be easy to plant them right inside the families as some kind of bait or... or... some type of secret agent. Nobody would expect them.

But where does critical thinking end and paranoia start?

"Darling, I...", you start again and brush a strand of hair out of your face.

"Come here, baby. Sit first. You look serious", he smiles at you, pours two cups of tea and takes one.

You take a deep breath and sit down.